


head first, and no regrets

by iovewords



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Drowning, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hint of Spideytorch, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Johnny Storm is a hot lifeguard, MJ is a hero, Medical Inaccuracies, The acadec gang are camp counselors, peter is a noble idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iovewords/pseuds/iovewords
Summary: Peter loses something of MJ's. MJ almost loses something more important.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 78
Collections: Spideychelle Week 2020





	head first, and no regrets

**Author's Note:**

> For Spideychelle Week Day 6: Enemies to Lovers. It's a summer camp counselor AU!
> 
> Title is from Aquaman from Walk the Moon.

MJ is re-tying her ponytail when Peter moves his kayak up beside hers and playfully splashes her with his paddle. It’s enough to startle her though, and her sunglasses, which were balanced on her lap, bounce over the side and into the water. They sink away tragically into the depths, like Jack’s frozen corpse in _Titanic_. 

“Peter! Fuck!”

“What?” His smile drops and he looks clueless. For a genius, he’s clueless about a lot of things.

“My sunglasses,” she grits out. “You knocked them overboard.”

He winces. “Oh shit, sorry. But… technically that was kinda you? I didn’t touch them.”

“You splashed me!”

“Haven’t we all been doing that?”

...Fair.

Campers and counselors alike are spread out in boats around the lake engaged in a full on water battle. The air is filled with sounds of splashing and chaotic shrieking. It’s like the Ancient Roman Naumachia except most of the participants are under ten, don’t know how to steer, and no one’s actually trying to kill each other. It’s adorable. To her left, Gwen is aiming a super soaker at Flash.

Truth be told, MJ doesn’t care that much. The sunglasses were cheap, and she has another pair back at the cabin. But she’s been pissed at him all day, and now the anger is bubbling up. “You’re such an idiot.”

“It was an accident!”

“And? They’re still gone. Thanks a lot.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Peter lays his paddle carefully across his kayak and sits up straight, unbuckling the straps on his life jacket.

“What are you doing?” MJ asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Getting your sunglasses.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” The lake is 15 feet deep at least. Plus it’s dark, and the bottom is covered in algae and shit. The glasses are becoming one with the mud as they speak.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find them,” Peter says, placing his life jacket beside him and standing up smoothly in his seat. “I’ve got my spidey sense, remember?”

Ah, the spidey sense. Peter and Ned’s favorite inside joke. She gets the sense (ha) it has to do with his uncanny good reflexes that he’s _terrible_ at hiding. For example: he sits out of most sports, yet can catch or dodge everything thrown at him with perfect ease. He’s also regularly saving campers from being a danger to themselves, such as stopping them from touching poison ivy, or grabbing them before they trip and fall on their cute little faces.

With a heavy sigh, MJ watches Peter dive into the lake. Then she reaches for his paddle, which is tipping off the side of his kayak from the jostling of his dive, and places it back on the boat. Squinting in the bright sunlight, MJ crosses her arms and waits.

One of her campers, Elena, paddles up to her looking miserable. “MJ, my head hurts.” 

MJ’s frown softens. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey. Have you been staying hydrated?”

“Umm. We’re in the lake?”

“Yes, but just being in a body of water doesn't count. You need to keep drinking water.”

“Oh.”

MJ decides to use this opportunity to teach a fun animal fact. “Some animals do absorb water through their skin though. Like frogs!”

Elena perks up at this. She loves frogs.

“They can also breathe through their skin. It has to be kept moist for them to get oxygen, so their bodies are covered in mucus. That's why they die if they get too dried out.”

“So that’s why they’re slimy?”

“Exactly.” MJ points to the shore, where Betty is sitting with everyone’s towels and backpacks. “How about you go back to shore and hang out with Betty for a bit? Drink water, cool off in the shade, and then see how you’re feeling. And if your headache gets worse, Betty can take you to the nurse, okay?”

“Okay! Thanks, MJ!” Elena spins her kayak around and heads off. MJ smiles after her. She has a soft spot for little girls who like weird facts.

MJ then watches several boats crash into each other on purpose like bumper cars. She watches exasperated as yet another child gets her kayak stuck in the shallows by the little island, an area they have all been told repeatedly to avoid. The girl frees herself relatively quickly. MJ is proud.

Out of the corner of her eye, by the reeds, MJ can see a few boys approaching a pair of geese who are starting to hiss and honk.

“BOYS!” she shouts in her sternest voice. “Leave those geese alone!”

“We just want to say hi,” one boy, Ethan, calls back, a slight whine to his voice.

“I don’t care,” MJ yells. “You know better than to eff with those evil creatures. I know you guys have heard of Untitled Goose Game. Do you think I’ll have any sympathy when the nurse has to call home and tell your parents you got attacked by a demonic bird?”

The boys giggle, but they back off.

MJ watches, on edge, to make sure the birds settle down and don’t go charging at the kids. Relieved, she leans back in her seat with a sigh and closes her eyes. She feels her kayak drift in the gentle breeze. The sun is bright, beating down on her skin, and she scrunches her face, despite her eyes being shut. She wishes she had her sunglasses...

Wait.

Peter.

_Shit_.

MJ lurches forward, the realization that Peter hasn’t come back up hitting her like a crashing wave. She glances down at the water, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Where is he?

Standing up quickly, she wobbles, then balances herself. She blows her whistle that hangs around her neck. Waving frantically to Johnny the lifeguard, she screams “JOHNNY! JOHNNY! HELP! PETER!”

Without looking to see if he, or anyone else is coming, she rips off her life jacket and dives in. She swims as fast as she can, her eyes open and stinging, and of course it’s murky and she can’t see shit. She hopes desperately if she swims straight down she can find him by touch. The deeper she goes, the colder it gets and the more pressure pounds her ears.

MJ casts her arms out blindly, fear and desperation swirling inside her, and then, miraculously, her fingers brush his arm. It’s dark, but she can vaguely see the outline of him, and he’s frighteningly still. Fuck. Wrapping one arm around his chest, she propels off from the lake bottom as hard as she can.

But she can only go so far. MJ is strong, but she’s not strong enough to carry a full grown unconscious person. She thinks distantly of the times she’d tease him about being shorter than her. It’s nonsensical. Short doesn’t mean light, and definitely not with all the solid muscle he has. MJ can feel her energy sapping, her lungs squeezing tighter and tighter as she strains to keep hold of his dead weight that’s dragging both of them down. 

She debates letting him go to save herself.

_No. NO._

She can’t give up on him. MJ kicks harder, clawing one handed toward the surface, her body flooded with panic and adrenaline. She can’t tell if she’s getting closer, but she has to keep going. She has to.

Dimly she feels Peter pulled from her grasp. While her sluggish brain catches up, she feels an arm wrap around her middle.

MJ gasps as her face breaks the surface. She coughs for what feels like forever, her dulled senses slowly returning to her as Gwen slips MJ’s arm over her shoulder. They (well, just Gwen. MJ isn’t really contributing here) doggy paddle toward Gwen and Cindy’s canoe. Cindy reaches out, and the girls haul MJ into the boat.

“Holy shit,” Cindy says, her hand on MJ’s shoulder as Gwen climbs effortlessly into the canoe. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Heaving gasp. “Yeah. Thanks.” She coughs again and then freezes. “ _Peter_.”

“Johnny’s got him.” Gwen points in the direction of the shore. 

Blinking through the water streaming in her eyes and strands of hair clinging to her face, MJ can see Johnny dragging Peter toward the bank, where a small crowd is forming. Even from this distance, MJ can see that Peter looks lifeless.

“Oh my god.”

They make it back with record speed. MJ jumps out of the canoe before they’re even stopped, stumbling slightly on the rocks.

Johnny has Peter laid out on the grass and is giving him CPR. The kids that have already made it back are staring, stunned, and a few are crying. The other counselors are doing their best to herd them back but nobody's listening. Nearby, Betty has her phone to her ear, calling emergency services.

MJ falls to her knees beside Johnny, her eyes locked on Peter’s slack pale face, his blue lips. They almost kissed last night. He must have thought it was a mistake. He ran away and had been avoiding her for most of the day up until now. And now the last thing she said to him was in anger about her damn sunglasses. He went to the bottom of the disgusting lake to get them back for her, probably wanting to find them on his first try, and stayed down for far too long.

_God Peter, you idiot,_ she thinks. _And what an idiot I am. I didn’t even notice how long you were gone._

MJ feels a sting in her eyes that isn’t from lake water. Johnny’s movements as he does chest compressions are firm and controlled, but his voice is wavering slightly as he says, “Come on, bro! Come on!”

MJ’s stomach churns with dread. She wants to reach forward and hold Peter’s dumb face between her hands. Wants to grab his shoulders and shake him back to life. But she knows that she needs to stay out of the lifeguard’s way and let him do his job.

“Come on, Peter. Come on. _Wake up!_ ” Johnny gives another rescue breath. 

Peter can’t die. He can’t. MJ can’t believe this is happening.

They’d finally made progress this summer from their years-long petty rivalry. The first day they met they got off on the wrong foot. Peter was from New York (and never shut up about it), so she’d assumed he’d be utterly clueless about the great outdoors. But like seemingly everything he did, it came naturally and effortlessly to him. It drove her nuts. Meanwhile her awkward attempt at a joke in their first meeting led him to believe she was insulting him, leaving him with a negative first impression of her. He was annoyed with her and she was annoyed with him and it just snowballed from there. 

It was perhaps ironic then that Peter and MJ were both so beloved by everyone as counselors, when their constant bickering went against the spirit of the camp’s whole message of sunshine and peace signs. But for as much as they butted heads, MJ often secretly enjoyed the banter, and he seemed to feel the same.

But then something had changed between them this summer. Suddenly they were talking more, laughing together, and she found herself catching his eye across crowded rooms and smoky campfires. Something about Peter was letting her trust him, letting him in. She supposed they were friends now, weren’t they?

Or more? MJ wanted more. She thought he did too. He was the one who leaned in first to kiss her last night, sat together under the stars on that old picnic table. That is, until he abruptly changed his mind and took off, leaving her alone and confused. Then today he avoided her until he decided to approach her and play around like nothing happened. 

Stupid asshole.

MJ didn’t understand him. And she didn’t know what to do with her dumb, squishy feelings. It was complicated enough that she thought she hated him, and then she liked him, and then she hated him again. And now… what if he didn’t wake up? What if-

Johnny hits Peter’s chest again, hard, and Peter jerks up suddenly with a loud gasp. Johnny rolls him over as he throws up lake water, coughing harshly and more painfully than MJ had just moments before. 

The overwhelming relief that courses through her nearly bowls her over. 

“All right guys, back up, give him some space,” Johnny says loudly, his own relief clear in his voice. The counselors repeat his order, physically pulling kids back and leading them away to console them. Distantly MJ hears Cindy, Gwen and Flash calling and collecting campers still out on the lake. MJ knows she should get up and do her own job as counselor, but she stays beside Peter as Johnny checks his pulse and says something into his radio.

Impulsively, MJ brushes wet hair out of Peter’s face as he blinks at her, breathing raggedly. 

“MJ?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I got- I got your sunglasses.”

MJ stares, as Peter weakly lifts his hand to hold them up. “S-Spidey sense. Told ya.”

It’s unbelievable that he found them. It’s also unbelievable that he managed to hold onto them while unconscious. He must have sticky fingers or something.

“Thanks,” MJ says flatly, although she feels anything but chill on the inside.

Damn it. She wants to kiss him.

“Are...you okay?” Peter asks, his voice full of concern as he takes in her soaking wet form. He tries to sit up, and then immediately flops back down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” MJ says, one hand moving to cup the back of his head. He leans into it and closes his eyes.

“You saved me, didn’t you?” Peter says, eyes still closed.

“Kind of. Johnny helped.”

“Hi,” says Johnny.

Peter smiles. Then he opens his eyes and says, “Can you please kiss me?”

Oh?

“Me or him?” MJ asks, not entirely sure. 

“You. He already got his turn.”

“Yes, but not in the sexy way,” Johnny says, but MJ isn’t listening.

She swoops down and crashes her mouth against Peter’s, the hand not cradling his head moving to grab a fistful of his shirt. Peter drops the sunglasses and reaches clumsily around her, pressing his hands into her back, his touch burning through her tank top. He tastes like lake water, which is gross, but she doesn’t even care.

“OOOOOOOOHHHH!” she hears a few kids (and possibly Flash) yell. Someone wolf whistles.

MJ feels a little bad about subjecting these poor babies to such an unprofessional sight, but on the other hand, they’ve seen more than enough PG movies. And considering what just happened, it’s not as bad.

MJ pulls away first, concerned about Peter’s whole not-breathing-five-minutes-ago thing. He looks dazed and disappointed they stopped. But then he beams at her, and she returns it, a golden feeling glowing inside her like fireflies. 

They’ll need to talk later, after everything is settled down and they can be alone. But for now she sits in this moment with him, the world buzzing too loud and too quiet at once, and they’re looking at each other with wonder and delight, and it’s enough.

Then Peter picks up her sunglasses, which have bits of muck and grass blades stuck to them, and puts them on with an exaggerated flourish. “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot. A noble, but alive idiot.”

“Thanks to you.”

MJ leans forward and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I also drew fanart! [See it here!](https://iovewords.tumblr.com/post/621993652646035456/day-6-of-spideychelleweek-enemies-to-lovers)
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @iovewords to see my other fanart for the rest of Spideychelle Week!


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